Direct Access Vaping


I’ve been riding motorbikes since I was legally able to. In many ways I feel the same way about bikes as I do vaping given the liberating experience they offer. Maybe liberating isn’t the best word? I ought to buy a load and post them to Tibet to see if it helps remove the Chinese. Defeated by your own atomisers, that would suck.

Perhaps that’s why the Subkangerlantis doesn’t come with instructions on how to use it safely? The Chinese know the sense of relaxation and joy that freedom from smoking offers, perhaps they understood the power of a sub ohm tank went far beyond the ability to chuck clouds in front of Wolf Hall to improve the viewing pleasure? Today your coils, tomorrow the world.

Bikes are ace. Pirsig’s Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance missed the boat on metaphysics. Sure, some people love to get involved in the workings of the engine but it’s the focus on the road that empties the mind. It’s an emptiness that induces a tranquillity of being; smoothly flowing from corner to corner while the skin sense changing temperatures and the nose is flooded with smells.

I find a slow vape the same – none of the immediacy of sub ohm clouds flooding the room but a gradual cyclical vape sending spirals of vapour curling and dancing airborne. Focussing on breathing, the flavours and the heated fog on my tongue is beautifully cathartic.

It’s why I don’t understand race reps. I don’t get motorbikes covered in plastic replete with their dayglo power rangers. I don’t understand the need to turn the B6047 from a road to bliss into an extension of Donnington race circuit. The residents of Great Dalby don’t understand either. They don’t know why every sunny Sunday brings the sound of baffle-free exhaust pipes expressing the rage of an engine hitting the red line limiter.

The B6047, like a whole number of roads around the country, is now covered in road signs telling bikers how many other bikers have died on it this year. I’m sure someone somewhere thought this was a great plan to reduce road casualties – in the same way they invented Take Me Out to put folks off having sex with stupid people – but it hardly seems to be working.

I’m certain danger perception just doesn’t get communicated through a sign or someone moaning on about it. If it did smokers wouldn’t have bought Death cigarettes. I feel it comes from experience, that the closer you get to the limit the more you appreciate the stuff on the safer side. Not just that but the knowledge accrued from experience.

I can service an engine like I can build an atomiser head, the months spent pawing Evods into life and coaxing mesh wicks away from the bright side developed an appreciation for the beauty of it: Pirsig’s gestalt, the coexistence of rationality and being in the moment.

Now, with Direct Access, middle-aged men can leap straight onto a Honda Fireplace and go at twice the legal limit. China has given the world direct access vaping: within 2minutes of taking up ecigs people desire a 0.000001ohm coil and a cloud the size of Luxembourg.

I don’t understand it but can I decry it? Nope. I’m too busy constructing Zen & the Art of Mechanical Mods.